I've Been to Boston Before
by dontbesojaded
Summary: A missing moment from the finale. I've always wondered what happened in between "Yes, I think we both know" and Sam returning to the bar. If you have too, then check this out. And review. Reviews are very nice. In simple terms: Sam and Diane get a real goodbye for once.


_A/N: This a missing moment (or two?) from the finale. It takes place between when Diane says "Yes, I think we both know" on the plane and when Sam goes back to Cheers. I've always wondered about their last goodbye, and hated how Diane was written/treated in the finale, so this is a therapeutic fic of sorts for me haha. Also you should listen to the song that sort of inspired it because its great. Seriously listen to it while reading it. If it makes you cry then I'll know my job was done well. _

* * *

_**gotta rush away she said  
i've been to boston before  
and anyways the change  
i've been feeling  
doesn't make the rain fall  
no big difference these days  
just the same old walkaways  
some day i'm gonna stay  
but not today  
**__Walkaways by Counting Crows_

_Penultimate_

**i wanted a perfect ending.  
now i've learned, the hard way,  
that some poems don't rhyme**

She'd always had trouble letting things go. On Easter Sunday in the second grade she'd continued to grapple with a tug of war rope even as all her teammates fell away. While she was facing off against twenty other children, alone, she'd acquired an acute sort of tunnel vision. She was transported into a version of the world in which she only wanted, and for no particular reason other than she just did.

She wanted Sam in much the same way, a primal sort of need that made no scientific sense (when you tried a mathematical approach 1 + 1 always ended up equalling negative two). Yet for almost a decade she'd held on, dug her feet into the dirt and refused to back down even as time, distance and pure common sense fought with her on the other end. Now, it felt like she'd reached some sort of pinnacle, the rope was hovering in the middle, she could give one more bone-breaking tug, or let it slide through her hands.

"Sam?" She broke the silence that had plagued them since she last spoke. They both seemed to be waiting for something.

He looked up at her, and she wished he hadn't. Something about his look made her feel hopeless and somehow responsible, as if she should hand down some final judgement. The decision had already been half-made - they both knew - but would either of them do anything about it? It appeared to be her choice, and she hated it.

Sam didn't let go of her hand, and his light grip tightened in a desperate attempt to prevent the inevitable. Inevitable. She almost laughed. She'd been right after all, at least partially. Not about them, not their relationship, not a looming marriage. No, it was inevitable that one little girl could not win a tug of war match against forces twenty time more powerful than her own. She would forfeit or she would fall, but either way she was going to fail. It was up to her whether she would make a graceful exit or get a faceful of dirt as she tried to do the impossible.

In that instant she chose. She chose to forgo childish ideals and the grim determination of an eight year old in her Sunday best. She chose grace instead of glory. She chose to let go.

"We can't." She said quietly. "I wish..." She paused and realized too late that she was probably going to cry, and of all the fucking days to not wear waterproof mascara. "We can't."

He looked at her for a long time before speaking. "Damn it, Diane." He said quietly, and looked away. "Damn it."

She knew he wasn't arguing with her. He was cursing a world that would never allow things to turn out alright, but he wasn't arguing. It wasn't worth it.

"I'm so sorry, Sam." She wasn't even sure what she was apologizing for. For the fucked-up realism that had been forced upon her by the unfairness of the world? For letting go? For giving up? He couldn't blame her, could he? It had been a long fight, and she was just too damn tired.

"It's not your fault." He said and the sincerity in his voice surprised her, as if he thought she wouldn't believe him if he didn't force it upon her. She glanced up, wide-eyed. "I mean, I don't blame you. I...I did, I guess. For leaving. But it wasn't...and it's not."

"Thank you." She said softly. She felt a tremendous weight lift from her chest, surprising her. It had been there so long now she hadn't even realized it still existed.

"And I'm sorry, too." He said.

They both were sorry, but did that meant it was no one's fault or they both were equally to blame? It didn't matter. Either way it meant they had both resolved themselves to letting go of the rope.

"It doesn't really change anything, does it?" She said quietly. There was a long pause and she hoped, for a just a second, that he might tell her that it _did_ change something. That they were finally going to accomplish something in this uphill battle, and that she shouldn't let go because he was going to pull with her. She wouldn't have minded being wrong just this once if it meant they could stay on this plane.

"I don't think anything would." He said. Of course not, she thought bitterly, it's inevitable. She found herself wishing she'd never come to Boston in the first place, and she didn't just mean come back to Boston. She wished she'd never met Sumner, certainly never taken a detour on their way to be married, and most importantly never walked into his damn bar.

Her father used to say that "trying means nothing, it's only product that counts", of course he'd been talking about an English paper she'd gotten a B on, but somehow it was haunting her in this moment.

They'd both tried, and still they had nothing to show for it, not one damn thing. She couldn't even find the box her engagement ring had come in (not to mention the ring itself, or her retainer and french club pin for that matter) and did that mean it had all been a waste? It seemed sacrilegious, that someone could be such a part of your life - of you - for such a long time, and that you could go through so much yet still never make it out the other side. Not only that, but that it could all cease to matter in the grand scheme things.

She only realized she had actually started to cry when he slipped an arm over her shoulders.

"Hey." He said softly. "Don't..." He stopped mid-sentence, perhaps deciding it was better not to tell her not to cry. Maybe she had earned this one. Instead he leaned closer, "It's not fair is it?"

She shook her head, but it was so much more than that. It wasn't only unfair, it was unbelievable. She curled her hand around the edge of his jacket for a moment, comforted by the idea of having some sort of hold on him when it seemed their entire existence was being called into question.

"We've reached the terminal." The captain crackled over the intercom, and she felt an irrational anger at him for making them rethink this. Maybe she wouldn't have minded being spontaneous just this once, but they were probably too old for that anyways. Diane wiped a hand across her eyes, internally cursed her mascara, and blushed.

"Come on, Sam. I'll walk you out and catch the next flight." She spoke low, as if telling a secret, but maybe she was just worried her voice would crack if she spoke any louder. She slipped her hand out of his (thinking of the rope sliding through her fingers and leaving her hands chapped and raw) and unbuckled her seat belt.

The walk back to their gate seemed to rewind them a day. They were as uncomfortably silent as exes should be. She told herself thats all they ever really were, that whatever this had seemed like, it was really just another childlike projection of her own impossible desires onto real life. And last night had just been...a tryste. No matter that it hadn't exactly felt like it at the time, and certainly hadn't seemed that way when he'd remarked that they should just get married already so he wouldn't lose her again. Right. It had just been a one-night stand sort of thing, with an almost engagement and tears on airplane thrown in there in replace of the walk of shame and a morning after pill.

"Oh, um, did you...your luggage, Sam."

He shook his head. "Doesn't matter. Don't need it."

She thought back to how little he'd been carrying in the first place and it dawned on her that - subconsciously - they'd both known he wasn't really coming with her. A few minutes ago that may have sparked another round of tears but she had sobered while walking out of the plane. Now it was just another one of many exhausting realizations.

They stood oddly across from each other in the gate. The window behind them cast shadows over their faces as clouds drifted in front of the setting sun, but the light was the only thing that moved. They were both suddenly frozen, and supremely interested by the ugly grey airport carpet under their feet. Disgruntled passengers pushed around them, juxtaposing oddly against their stillness.

"Well." He said, and she could hear the period in his voice.

"Well." She repeated and they both smiled, albeit a little shakily.

"I should..."

"Oh, yes. You should go." She glanced at her watch, "If you leave now you can make it back before closing time."

He nodded, started to move and then paused with a small smile. "Walk me to my car?"

Diane took a deep breath, and matched his smile. She'd forgotten how terrible she was at goodbyes, and any action that would further prolong them was a welcome one.

"Of course."

_Finale_

**and some stories  
don't have a clear  
beginning, middle, and end**

Sam learned three things as Diane walked with him back to his car, prattling about nothing to fill a silence that she couldn't stand. The first thing was that she still looked damn beautiful with the sun at her back, picking up the gold in her hair. The second was that he was making the right choice by going back to Cheers. The third was that he definitely still loved her and probably always would.

He discovered the first in an obvious and mundane way, Diane had turned towards him just as the sun had drifted out from behind clouds, but the product had been something verging on ethereal and certainly breathtaking.

The last two things appeared to be at odds with each other. He was going back to Cheers, that had been decided on the plane and probably sometime long before that. He didn't exactly learn this on the walk to his car, but somehow the warm breeze and soft light made him feel more steady in his choice than the stale air and fluorescents of the plane had.

The third thing he didn't learn, he simply remembered. He liked remembering it, it was a sort of "fuck you" to circumstance and time and their own inflated egos and whatever else always kept them from finding a way to be together. _So there. I love her. I love her even though I can't have her._

Except that wasn't true at all, because everything would be a thousand times easier if he _didn't _love her.

"Are you even listening to me?" She searched his face, and found her answer. "Of course you aren't." She laughed a little, seeming to have perked up considerably since getting out of the airport.

"Sorry."

"Oh, Sam." She sighed, it was a familiar refrain and he saw her jaw visibly tighten as it escaped her lips. "Anyways, what I was saying was, what were you planning on doing with your car if you had um-" She paused. "gone with me?"

He shrugged. "Didn't really think about it."

Her eyes widened, and she glanced up at him. "You didn't?"

"What do you look so surprised for? I can think about things other than my car and my hair, you know." He shoved her gently to show he was teasing and she laughed again.

"I know." Her smile faltered a bit, and she glanced back down at the sidewalk they were walking on. "But do you think its possible that you...that we...we weren't thinking at all?"

"What we're we doing, then?" He kept his voice light and she seemed to relax a bit again.

"Being spontaneous." She grinned and looked fully up at him. He laughed a little and she went on. "I have to say, Sam, it's a bit overrated."

"Yeah. We really can't catch a break, can we?" He'd meant it as a joke, but her smile faltered at the edges before dropping away completely.

"It doesn't appear that way."

There was silence for a while before Sam spoke next. The Corvette was only a few strides ahead of them now. He touched her arm to make her stop and faced her.

"Will we ever?" He said quietly.

She looked up then, and there was something more than melancholy in her expression, something a little like fear. "I don't know."

He nodded slowly and glanced around. "Well, until then. Do you, uh, think I could get a real goodbye? 'Cuz I gotta tell ya, 'see you in six months' didn't really cut it last time." He smiled to show he was kidding but her eyes began to fill with tears, more of guilt and regret than anything else.

"Oh, god, Sam."

He was hesitant to touch her, even though she was obviously in need of some sort of comfort. "Hey, hey. I told you. It's alright."

"And if its not?" Her voice was quiet but he heard her clearly.

"Well, then we can pretend. We've always been good at that." He opened his arms slightly and she moved towards him almost tentatively, as if everything that had transpired between them in the past few days had never occurred. They were strangers in each others arms once again.

It was undoubtedly awkward for a moment, and then she let out an involuntary sniff (perhaps a precursor to mild hysteria) and his arms tightened around her waist. She reached up to wrap her arms around his neck and the feeling was familiar in a way that hurt.

"Am I going to get that goodbye?" He said softly.

"I'll- " She started into his shoulder and he shook his head.

"Don't make me any promises you can't keep." His voice was low, but firm.

"Alright." She nodded without pulling away. "Alright." She took a deep, shuddery breath. "Goodbye, Sam."

He pulled away and brushed her hair away from her face. She smiled and sniffed, wiping away mascara from her cheeks. He leaned forward as if he were going to kiss her, but then tilted his head at the last second so his lips brushed her forehead. She sighed and he felt her fingers close on his jacket.

"Goodbye, Diane."

She nodded and swallowed. Then pressed her hand gently to his chest, pushing him away.

"Go." She said.

He squeezed her hand once and then turned away.

_Epilogue_

**delicious ambiguity.**

Watching his car drive off into the red-orange sunset it occurred to her that this was the first time she'd seen him leave her. She'd always done the leaving, and she'd always looked back. She'd glanced back down those stairs to Cheers too many times to count. And where her eyes had gone, her feet had always eventually followed.

Sam's eyes stayed trained on the road as he passed her. She felt a sinking sense of hopelessness that surprised her, she thought she'd run out of hope a while ago.

Suddenly Sam glanced backwards, just for a moment, and their eyes met. He called something back to her but the wind took his words and threw them away. She could tell that it wasn't quite "goodbye" and it wasn't quite "I'll see you soon", but it looked to be something in between.

She blew a kiss and he smiled. Then breeze blew her hair in front of her face and when she'd shoved it away the Corvette was just a blotch on the picturesque sunset. She felt laughter bubble up in her chest, nothing was funny (in fact it was all quite the opposite), but she felt lighter, younger, somehow.

"Someday," she thought, with utter certainty. "I'm going to stay."

The wind blew the clouds in front of the sun again and the trees lining the sidewalk cast long shadows on her face. She breathed in deep and looked up at where the car and Sam had been a few moments ago.

"But not today." She finished, watching her feet as she walked, head down, into the sunset and back towards LA.

**The End**_?_


End file.
